Travels With Severus, Severus Does New Orleans
by Titania Snape
Summary: SSOFC Chapter Six is up! Please read and review! Thanks and kisses.
1. Default Chapter

Anti Attorney Ward: They are all, with the exception of my original characters, JKR's. Long may she reign!

A/N: Hello readers! I just wanted to take a minute of your busy reading time to explain a couple of things. First, as far as Severus Snape's character is concerned, we really don't know that much about him, other than what we know from JKR. I have read some very interesting fanfics, staring darling Severus in a variety of situations with a variety of characters—most often Hermione Granger. Interesting combo..I love Mione, but well….Severus fascinates me more. I just love dark, brooding mysterious men. 

I am, at heart; a forensic science buff, and so have undertaken a study of our Potions master. I hope that the conclusions I have drawn (which are based on JKR's characterizations only) will be successfully conveyed in these works. I also hope that my particular characterizations will be well received by you the reader, as there will more than likely be no additional canon characters appearing within these pages.

Please read and review, if you have a criticism, please make it constructive. 

Now, grab that cocktail, sit right back and enjoy!

****

Book One: **After the Fall**

Prologue

Voldimort was dead and gone. 

Freshly dead, his time in the world was still too horrible to talk of, but he and the war he caused would, over time become the stuff of legend. The tragedies suffered at his hands would eventually become fairy tales, told to young witches and wizards to keep them from choosing darkness over light. The heros in his defeat would be glorified and fitted with god like qualities, their faces plastered on Chocolate Frog cards. 'Merlin help me.' The dark robed Potions master muttered at the thought of his face on a Wizard card. It was too late for that, however. His face, along with those principal players in The Dark Lord's downfall, was already memorialized on the blasted things.

He was, normally, quite comfortable in his own skin, and held no illusions about himself. He was a Death Eater, turned spy for Albus Dumbledore and The Order of The Phoenix. A double agent. He knew that he was not a 'classically' handsome man. He was too wiry, his skin too sallow from his time in the dungeons and the exposure to the many potions he had been exposed to through his teaching and his work as a Master. The darkness in him was genuine and from birth, as was the goodness he was capable of. His nose, once aquiline, was now slightly crooked from one too many breaks. His eyes were dark brown and were, usually unreadable. His lips were rather nice, however, the upper lip being just a bit too thin, whilst the lower being fuller. They were quite sensual, actually. 

He also knew that he was no hero, in spite of what the wizarding community thought. Yet, he had been plied with all of the trappings and adjectives that went along with his 'hero' status.

And trappings there were. After more than a decade of unwilling females struggling against him, he was suddenly the object of attention from more women than any sane wizard could hope to deal with. Not that he minded, of course, but some of those witches! Not to mention the occasional offer from a wizard, best not to go there. Severus was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with his status as hero, his face on the cards, his Order of Merlin, Second Class (his Death Eater days had to be taken into account after all, as well as Fudge's hatred of him), the witches throwing themselves at his feet, even Dobby's praises all made him want to run and hide away from it all. Potter and his friends might be thriving on all of the attention, but he had never sought it. He had merely done what he felt he had to do for the war effort for one reason: redemption. 

He still hadn't found it. After twenty odd years, he realized that he probably never would find that elusive thing called redemption, in spite of what Albus Dumbledore said. In spite of what Minerva said, or what Rita Skeeter said in her articles about him and his days as a "Spy for the Light". Severus Snape did not feel redeemed. 

For the first time since his taking his teaching position at Hogwarts it no longer felt like the sanctuary that it had once been for him. Even his Dungeons were no longer a place of refuge. He had to get away, far away. It was time to retire from teaching, time to travel the world. He would miss nothing about Hogwarts, except for Albus. Yet he knew that Albus would understand.


	2. Chapter One

Anti-Attorney ward: They aren't mine, except for the one's I have created. No money being made here folks! Really. Oh, and the bars and lounges named within are all fictional, but I urge you to visit The Big Easy! Great town, great food and the bars NEVER close! 

Travels With Severus

Book One Chapter One

Severus Does New Orleans

Severus Snape loved music. His appreciation of music, among other arts, was one of the few things he could thank his father for, albeit reluctantly. It had been the only thing that the muggle world had produced that his father had been able to appreciate. Muggle music and art, had led Severus to begin to explore the non-magical world. He had loved to walk the streets of London at night, and would apperate to that city every chance he got. His father had eventually found out though, thanks to Potter and his friends. The only thing that saved him from his fathers beating, was the mark that he bore on his arm. The only thing that saved him from Voldimort's wrath was that he had managed to persuade him that his knowledge of the muggle world would be of vast assistance in his rise to power and eventual rule. It was, and it had also been of vast assistance in his defeat.

He had nearly stopped listening to music once he took the mark, for he often found himself angrily forcing bittersweet memories back into the depths of his sub conscience whenever he heard the familiar strains of any Mozart composition. He had stopped listening to opera all together, for try as he might, he was unable to stop the tears that would always come with the sweet strains of the music and the beautiful voices singing their deaths. Ah, to love so much that death was the only answer to having to face the world without the object of that love. Tears were not suited to Death Eaters, even a reformed one. Tears were weakness, and Severus Snape was, at least on the surface, not a weakling. 

Thus he turned away from most classical composers and cultivated tastes for other genres of music. Jazz was a particular favorite of his. He loved the smoky voice of Diana Krall and the soulful sensuality of Nina Simone. He loved Louis Armstrong, and the ragtime of Harlem and the roaring twenties. His latest favorite was Genevieve De laVerne, whose voice filled his dreams with her song. He had not heard a voice like hers in his entire life, so erotic and sultry. Soulful and inviting. He wondered what she looked like, for her likeness was never seen on her albums. All that anyone knew about her had been gleaned from the mini-series of stories that were written in the liner notes. Pieces of fiction designed to accompany the music she sang. She fascinated him, this faceless woman, who seduced with her voice. That she was a witch, he was almost sure of, but then Garbo hadn't been and she had managed to hold muggle men enthralled for decades with her mystery. She was, he learned, to appear in New Orleans in two weeks time at the Red Cat Jazz Club.

The decision to first travel to New Orleans was a natural one for him to make. _'Besides' he thought 'where else could one hear such a wide variety of this music? Served up in smoke filled bars and lounges that never closed.' _New Orleans held other attractions for him as well. The native women were reputed to be some of the most beautiful in the world. The society there, both wizard and muggle was said to be polite and hospitable. Anyone was welcome in that city, from hedonists to the straight and narrow. It was a place to go if you wanted to watch, be watched or disappear. Wine, women and song all in one beautiful city. 

His father had hated jazz. Yes, New Orleans was the first place he would visit. 

So it was that with a slight smile, Severus stepped through the doors of his comfortably air-conditioned hotel, and into the sultry July evening. His first in New Orleans. The city had a soft; lazy ambiance mixed with a Caribbean feel. The Spanish and French architecture was like art in its self. Severus ambled through Jackson Square, following the delicious scent of the Café Au Lait, which wafted though the heavy night air. The concierge at the hotel said that he should stop at the Café DuMonde on his way to the show and try the coffee at this famous café. His highly sensitive sense of smell detected the blend of the coffee, chicory and the sweet smell of steamed milk, and he quickened his pace in anticipation. 

"Good evening, sir." the young, black man dressed in waiters' garb said. "Table for one?"

"Yes." he replied as he glanced around him, uncomfortable at the curious glances he felt from the other patrons. Especially the female ones. He met the waiters' eyes and cocked his brow.

The young man smiled at him. "Right this way, please." he said leading him towards the middle of the table filled patio. 

"I'd prefer something closer to the railing." Snape said quietly, earning him a bewildered glance from the boy. Sensing his customers discomfort, he smiled and changed direction, leading him to a table alongside the railing.

" You aren't from around here are you?" the young man asked, "I can tell by your accent. Great Britain? Perhaps Scotland?"

"Yes." Snape replied with a frown. What is this? An inquisition?

"Well, if you've come for coffee you're in the wrong place. But if you have come for a cup of heaven, well you are in for a treat."

"Really" Snape drawled, still under observation by the rest of the room albeit subtle. "Is the staring part of the experience?"

This earned a laugh from the young man in the white apron. "Well, I wouldn't call it staring. No, staring is rude, and our mothers would be shocked at such rude behavior, sir. No no, we people watch here. No offence meant at all, but we New Orleanians love to people watch. Most of the people you see here are natives. The café is a tradition for us on Friday evenings."

"I see."

"Yes, well" the young man smirked "nothing like a good Café AuLait to start off the weekend."

"Speaking of which?" Snape replied with a cocked eyebrow.

"Of course, how silly of me." the young man said, taking the hint "I'll be right back."

Severus sat back and sighed. The evening was warm, no hot really, and he was glad that he had left his heavy woolen robes back home. Since he was traveling as a muggle, he had opted for a wardrobe of plain black trousers and linen shirts. He still hadn't gotten used to the light feel of the material, the freedom of movement it gave him. He still felt naked without the weight of his robes. In fact he felt as if he were standing naked in the middle of the patio by the way he was being 'people watched' by the entire room. He decided to 'people watch' back, but in his own way. 

Adopting his much-practiced scowl, he swept his eyes around the room. Smiling at the discomfort of the people around him as he looked at each of them just long enough to cross the boundary between polite and rude. One by one, they turned their eyes away, some clearing their throats, others suddenly finding their coffee interesting. Except for one person. She returned his gaze and slowly curled her lips into a smile.

"Here ya go. One Café AuLait and an order of begnets to start the weekend with." the young waiter stepped in between his gaze and the woman who was so blatantly returning it. "Enjoy. Nice meeting you. I hope you enjoy your stay."

"Thank you." he glanced at the boy's name tag "Etienne." The young man smiled and hurried to an awaiting customer. Severus looked over the top of his cup, wanting to continue with the contest he had started, but the woman had disappeared. With a frown and a shrug, he picked up his cup and sniffed the brew. He sipped. Ah! He would have to tip the concierge extra for this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The Red Cat Jazz Club was in full swing when Severus walked through the doors of the establishment. Harry Connick, JR was blasting from the speakers, and entwined couples on the dance floor swayed in time to his tune. Severus followed the hostess to his table as he took in the atmosphere around him, pleased with the modern art deco architecture and the abundance of polished and brushed chrome. The booths were the tall kind, reminiscent of the speakeasy, and covered in bright silks and damasks. 

Taking his seat near the edge of the dance floor, and at the front of the stage, he ordered a whiskey neat, then sat back and contemplated the empty stage. The show was to start in five minutes time, the show he had come all the way from England for, and he felt as giddy as a child did at Christmas.

A shiver ran up his spine as he realized that he was being watched, again. _'Oh no. More people watching natives.'_ he thought with a sigh _'Pastime or not, it's bloody rude.' _He plastered his best sneer on his face, and swept his eyes around his immediate vicinity. He had discomfited three people, when, as he swept his eyes to their next target and made contact he was startled to realize that it was the same woman he had seen at the Café DuMonde. She met his eyes again and smiled. He smirked back and cocked his brow. _'Am I flirting?'_ he thought, astonished. _' No, wait! She's flirting back!'_ Her smile widened and she had cocked her brow in response to his. She wasn't at all unattractive he thought as he assessed her from beneath squinted eyes. Nice chestnut brown hair, ordinary nose maybe a bit pert, but nice. Uncanny hazel eyes and her lips, well, were quite luscious. _'Oh, Merlin help me. She's walking over here! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! No woman should look that good in red. Where do those legs end?'_ Those never ending legs were carrying the creature toward his table, where she took a seat and smiled.

"Hi." she said "Here for the show?" She was smiling at him, brow cocked. She tucked her chin onto her hand. Her teeth gleamed in the dim light of the room. 

'_Gods, her voice is silky' _Severus cleared his throat and allowed his lips to curl into a small smile. "Yes. And you?" Feeling the sudden need to moisten his very dry mouth, he sipped his whiskey.

"Humm, why yes, as a matter of fact." came her reply. She toyed a napkin with her fingers. "You aren't from around here, are you?"

"No."

"I guessed as much back at the café. You seemed uncomfortable with the crowd."

"I'm not accustomed to what the waiter referred to as 'People Watching'." he replied, sipping his drink again as her perfume pleasantly assailed his senses. 

She laughed. "Yes, well. You must have come a long way, judging from your accent. Scotland?"

"Yes. I arrived today." he answered as the band began to take the stage before him.

"All that way, to see this show? I'm impressed." she sipped from the glass that a waitress sat in front of her. "What's your name?"

"Severus Snape. And yours?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but was stopped by a disembodied voice. **_" Ladies and gentlemen. The Red Cat Jazz Club is proud to present to you the sultry siren of jazz, Genevieve De laVerne!"_**

His mouth fell open, as with a wicked smile, the woman across from him rose and sauntered her way to the stage.

A/N This chapter is dedicated to Shem. Thanks for your encouragement, I hope you enjoy! 

As for the rest of ya'll, I promise to make the upcoming chapters more action packed. And I don't just mean action as in smut, although there will be some of that too. Surprises in store!!!


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for my car, my children, many articles of black clothing, some jewelry, the standard toiletries and a bunch of cosmetics the evil woman at the Estee Lauder counter forced me to buy. Really, you should have seen the marks she left on my arm when she twisted it! Oh, and Genevieve, she's mine too. Lyrics by Nina Simone.  
  
Travels with Severus; Severus does New Orleans  
  
Book One  
  
Chapter Two  
  
"You been acting different  
  
I've been told  
  
Soothe me  
  
I want some sugar in my bowl  
  
I want some steam  
  
on my clothes  
  
Maybe I can fix things up so they'll go  
  
Whatsa matter Daddy  
  
Come on save my soul  
  
I want some sugar in my bowl  
  
I ain't foolin'  
  
I want some - yeah - in my bowl."  
  
The stage lights dimmed as she finished her song to thunderous applause, and with a murmured "Thank You" she stepped down from the stage and walked through the audience and past the table that a transfixed Severus sat at.  
  
He was certain that she was a witch now. The songs she sang were like spells cast upon the room, the glamour getting thicker and thicker with each song. He shook his head slightly to clear it and rose from his chair, determined to talk to her. About what, precisely, he was unsure, but he had to talk to her.  
  
The audience had apparently had the same idea, for many of them had clustered around her, thus precluding him from reaching her. With a sigh, he sat back down and nursed his drink as he waited for the crowd of admirers to thin out. After a time, he glanced back at the bar only to discover that she had gone. He frowned at the table's surface, swallowed the remainder of his drink in one gulp and arose with the intention of returning to his hotel. It was late and he was tired and slightly drunk. 'Tease' he thought as he walked out of the front doors and into the night.  
  
As he strode past an alley he heard the unmistakable sound of a fight and the angry voice of a woman shouting "Stupefy!" He turned on his heel and ran in the direction of the commotion only to come to a dead stop at the sight before him and the blood-curdling scream that echoed through the night. Genevieve De laVerne, the very same "sultry siren of jazz" who had been weaving a glamour not even an hour ago, now stood before his startled gaze, clutching one end of what appeared to be a silver spike. The other end was embedded in the chest of a screaming, writhing female. Oblivious to the fountain of blood that was gushing from the woman, Genevieve pushed the spike further into her, then reached up under her skirt and withdrew a shiny, silver blade.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" he shouted, his wand arcing up toward Genevieve. The blade flew from her hand as she turned toward him, hissing in anger. "Immobulous!" he exclaimed. Reaching her side in three fast strides, he managed to catch her before she hit the pavement. "What the hell are you up to?" he growled at her, then turned and walked over the now still and silent woman slumped on the ground. He turned her over and looked closely at her prone figure. "Oh, fuck!" he whispered, running his fingers through his hair. He walked over to Genevieve and released her from the spell. "She's a vampire." he said as he offered his hand to her.  
  
"No shit!" she hissed at him as he pulled her up. "And now we need to get the hell out of here before we end up having to explain this to the police!" She grabbed his hand and disapperated them from the alley as sirens sounded in the near distance.  
  
They were suddenly in a dark room, with only the light of the full moon shining through a lone window.  
  
"Lumos." she said releasing his hand. She turned to him, her lips curling into a dangerous smile, and roughly shoved him down onto the couch behind him. "Immobulous!"  
  
'Merlins balls!.' he thought 'How did she get my wand?' She was waggling it in front of his face smugly.  
  
"I will release you, Snape, if you promise to sit there and not move. I'm sure you have lots of questions, but then perhaps I won't answer them if you ask. I should just obliviate you here and now, but, well with you being a war hero and all, perhaps you are entitled to an explanation. You did come all the way from Hogwarts to hear me sing." She stopped pacing, and walked out of his line of sight. In the background he heard the tinkling of ice against glass, followed by liquid as it was poured. The smell of bourbon filled the small room with its heady scent.  
  
'I'm going to kill her. No hex her! I hate bourbon." he thought as she came to a stop before him. She was smiling that dangerous smile again, as she set the glass down on the table next to him. Blood dripped from her with every move. It's smell and that of the bourbon was beginning to nauseate him.  
  
"No." she said reading the expression in his eyes "You won't. " she uttered a quick cleansing spell and the gore disappeared. "Would rather a shower, but this seems more pressing"  
  
She was right, of course, he was entirely too curious to know what in the name of Hell was going on here. Not to mention the fact that she had neatly hidden his wand under her skirt. 'Ah, that's better.' he thought as he felt the effects of the spell lifted from him. He thought about the feel of his hand around that slender neck of hers, so tempting that neck, so capable his hands, but he knew that she would not hesitate to hex him just as mercilessly as she had killed that vampire in the alley. Instead, he made do with a growled "Consider yourself lucky, Miss De LaVerne, that I haven't killed you. No one, but no one is allowed to behave towards me the way you have this evening."  
  
"Oh yes, Snape. I realized that as soon as I laid eyes on you. But, you must also realize that I can obliviate you back to your childhood. Or feed you to the next vampire that crosses my path." she paused at his sharp intake of breath and took a sip from her glass. "Look," she finally said, "you happened to stumble on me while I was doing, well, my job. At least my part time occupation. I'm sorry you had to see it, but I wasn't expecting to have to kill one tonight, nor was I expecting anyone to come running to my 'rescue'. Least of all you, you don't look like the rescuer type."  
  
He sat there, staring at her through hooded eyes. All he had wanted was a simple vacation, but his damned 'heroic' side had betrayed the bastard façade he had constructed so well. It was her damn fault too, with that glamour she had cast, yes that was it, the glamour had weakened his inner bastard. He ticked his mouth into a sneer and met her eyes with an arched brow. She merely met his gaze and returned the stare. Intriguing. Damn her.  
  
"Perhaps you would like that shower you spoke of?" he asked after a time.  
  
She sipped her drink. "And I am supposed to trust you to stay put?"  
  
The sneer relaxed into a slight smile. "I would never trust me, but under these circumstances, I am inclined to stay put. You have my wand. I want answers. " He rose from his seat and stood over her. Adopting his most imposing classroom tone, his voice like velvet over steel, he said, "Go. Take your shower, I can still smell blood on you. When you are finished, then we will talk."  
  
A little while later, Genevieve emerged from her room and encountered the smell of cooking food. "Well, he certainly knows how to make himself at home.' she thought with a wry smile a she leaned against the door frame and silently watched him cross back and fourth in her kitchen. Her stomach rumbled in sudden anticipation. She was always consumed with hunger after a kill, and what ever he was cooking smelled wonderful. Not what she expected from this man at all. No, not after all she had heard of him.  
  
He looked up, feeling her eyes on him. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "You cook? The one thing I would have never imagined about you, Severus Snape, ex-Death Eater, Double Agent, Hero and Potions master. You're shattering all of my illusions."  
  
" I doubt that, Miss De laVerne. You don't look as if you have any." He walked over to her and with arms folded, appraised her. She looked different now, scrubbed of her stage makeup, out of her red dress and in jeans and a T-shirt. She hardly looked like the much-desired jazz singer, or for that matter a vampire hunter. She looked like an ordinary woman now, except for her eyes. They belied the experience she held.  
  
As he had cooked dinner, he thought about what he had seen. In hindsight, he couldn't deny that the sight of her driving the stake further home into that vampire's heart had been, arousing. His darker side had appreciated the power he saw in her at that moment, the blood and gore dripping from her and the calmness with which she brought him here. She had looked magnificent, he thought to himself.  
  
"True." she replied, "I lost all of my illusions during my travels. And you? Honestly, what brings you here to New Orleans? You didn't really come all this way to hear me sing, did you."  
  
"Actually, I did. Imagine my surprise upon discovering your hidden side." he smirked at her surprised expression. "It seems that we are both full of them, this evening. My wand, if you please." he finished, holding out his hand.  
  
"I don't please, thank you." she replied as she stepped past him and into the living room "What's for dinner?"  
  
"My wand, or I will take it from you." His inner bastard was battling his heroic side again, he was itching to cast Expelliarmus, but the inner bastard was losing. He followed her into the room, and grabbed her arm, whirling her around to face him.  
  
"I'd like to see you try, Snape.". She leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for cooking dinner. I'm starved. If you are a good little boy, I'll give you your wand back after dinner. Or should I say breakfast." She glanced at the clock over her fireplace mantle. "It's nearly one A.M. Lets eat, then talk. I need sleep." 


	4. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: See prior chapters for the disclaimer. A/N: I am changing to narrative form for this chapter, just felt the urge to try something different. Let me know if you like it.  
  
Travels with Severus; Severus does New Orleans  
  
Book One; Chapter Three  
  
Dinner, or should I say, breakfast turned out to be quite good. As I told Severus last night, his ability to cook was most surprising. As was the whole damn evening, actually. The shrimp Alfredo was just the topper. I am really a singer, a vocal stylist, a chanteuse if you will, and I love to sing Jazz. The whole vampire hunter thing was purely accidental. But I jump ahead of myself. Perhaps I should begin at the beginning, as it were.  
  
I am a thirty-six year old half blood witch. My mom was an ordinary witch, and my dad a muggle jazz musician. My parents met at a party one night and, once dad got over the shock of mom's little secret, they married and had me. I got my powers from mom and my love of Jazz from dad, just in case you hadn't guessed. I was raised in both worlds. I attended muggle school until I went away to Salem for my magical education when I turned twelve. Other than the typical teenage angst, defiance of parents, etc, my childhood and adolescence was pretty dull. I now call it the 'Calm before the storm' era.  
  
Life got exciting for me after Salem. I had decided to pursue a career in entertainment, so I applied and was accepted into Loyola University's music program. I was close to home, and to the source of the music that I love so much. To earn some money, I sang back up to various bands. I got my feet wet, and earned respect. The contacts I made and the exposure that I received wasn't anything to laugh at either. With the exception of last nights' performance I have never once, used spells to get a gig or to enthrall an audience. It's just plain wrong. No, I worked my ass off to get to where I am today. I had cast my glamour last night for Severus, as sort of a 'I know what you are' signal. (I had recognized him almost at once, when I first saw him at the Café duMonde. We have chocolate frogs here too although I prefer a nice cold Snickers bar. He was so adorably flustered at the attention he was getting that I just had to challenge him.)  
  
But, I digress.  
  
I became a vampire hunter because my fiancé was murdered by one.  
  
We had met much in the same way mom and dad met. I was twenty-four and performing in my own show. Marcus was there in the audience, flirting with me. He was very, very cute, and very muggle. After the show, he asked me if he could buy me a drink and it took off from there. We did the typical muggle dating thing for a while, and eventually fell in love. All the while, I had managed to conceal the fact that I was a witch. But discovery was as inevitable as the Sun rising and setting.  
  
Marcus discovered the secret of my heritage on one of our dates. We had gone to the theater, and were walking back to the car after the show. It was very late, about midnight. Suddenly, there was a gun pointed at Marcus' head and a demand for money. I just reacted. I pulled my wand and hexed the hell out of the bastard with the gun. I don't know who was more surprised, Marcus or the mugger I had just turned into a toad. I think it may have been Marcus. My explanations seemed to make matters worse. Marcus was stuck in the middle of being grateful about what I had done and being stunned about what I had done. He avoided me for a couple of days, then took me for a very long walk around City Park. We talked about my family and about my being a witch. I told him about my mother and her family and how, yes, I had this wonderful gift, but that I didn't use it everyday. In the end, I apologized for not telling him about my powers and he thanked me for saving his life. Things progressed from there and eventually he proposed marriage.  
  
We had been engaged for about six months when he was murdered. I was in my first recording session for my first album. We had worked into the night, trying to get the last track down, and Marcus had been there for half the day. I was desperate for food, and he volunteered to run for burgers. I wish that I had told him no.  
  
I know that his killer was a female. I know that she lured him into the alley she killed him in. I knew he was dead the minute his heart stopped beating, and caring not who saw, apperated to his side. There was nothing I could do but scream.  
  
I knew that vampires roamed the city. One could not fail to notice them if one was really looking. Muggles can even discern them if they want to. You just have to be observant. Being that the creatures were the subject of my senior paper at Salem, I was in the habit of observing, and avoiding them. It's what I was taught to do in school. So why did I not think to warn Marcus? He would have believed me, I'm sure with me being a witch and all. I should have warned him, taught him to look for the signs of a vampire or anything dark, but I thought I could protect him from all of that.  
  
The Aurors staged the scene, so that no questions would be raised, even going as far as oblivating the production staff in the studio. We buried him and I retreated into my grief. I lived as a hermit for almost two years, refusing to finish the album, refusing all company save my parents.  
  
My career as a vampire hunter was an accidental, but now that I look back on it, a natural choice given the way Marcus died. I eventually came out of my self-imposed prison and started singing in the clubs again. It was soon after my return to the stage, that I encountered my first vampire. It nearly ended up being the death of me.  
  
The show had been going well and then near the end I spotted him.  
  
Vampires are, on the surface, beautiful creatures. This one was one of the most beautiful I had ever seen. I don't know how I managed to finish the set, when I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He was brazenly sitting in the middle of the crowd, and had even danced a dance with some woman in the audience. His hair was dark as a raven's feathers, his skin stark, pale and smooth like marble. His eyes were this arresting shade of green, and his lips sensual. So tempting, he was. I wondered how many he had killed, and how long he had walked as a vampire. He was meeting my gaze, trying to tempt me. Nearly succeeding in tempting me, actually. For after the show ended I found myself making my way toward him. We said not a word to each other and before I realized what was happening, I was following him outside and into a shadowed doorway across the street.  
  
He kissed me. I snapped out of the spell when I felt his cold flesh on mine and shoved him away. I managed to draw my wand, but he was too fast for me. The son of a bitch broke my wrist. That was the least of my worries though, because he had wrapped his other hand around my neck and was slowly strangling me.  
  
I thought of Marcus. I remembered the pain and the mourning. I felt the emptiness and the sharp shards of my shattered dreams. One of these creatures had taken my love from me, and was about to kill me too. I glimpsed the ugliness beneath the beauty of this creature and something in me snapped. Fuck em all, and fuck this guy too. I wasn't going down with out a fight! I kneed him in the groin, which gave me just enough time to make a run for it. Which I did as I accio-ed my wand. He chased me into an alley (really, New Orleans has too damn many of them) and somehow I managed to evade his grasping hands as I summoned a wrought iron fence post, whirled and plunged it into his chest. I had never seen that much blood in my life, and it was cascading over me in a wave of crimson. It was really nasty smelling and sticky, but it was the most wonderful thing I had felt on my skin in a long time. I am not sorry to say that I gloried in the creatures' destruction. I've been killing them ever since.  
  
I don't actively hunt them, well that's not true. I go to places where I know vampires go, it just so happens that my career as a singer takes me to places like this. As for the no pictures on the album cover thing? Well as I explained to Severus last night, it is purely a marketing gimmick. It just happens to work well with my side job.  
  
Good thing too, because for the last few weeks I've been followed, and I'm pretty sure it's a vampire that's following me. 


	5. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: yada yada yada, not mine, wish Sev was ~sniff~.but all except for Genevieve belong to JKR.

This one is short, yes, but I am anxious to get on with the rest of the show (so to speak). Please take a moment to review this story. I welcome good reviews (duh) and constructive criticism, being that this is only my second work of fan fiction. If you flame me I will make you drink the glass of wine next to my bed, dead fly and all. (Damn, that was the last of the bottle too.) Thanks for reading!

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Travels with Severus: Severus does New Orleans

Book One

Chapter Four

I'm supposed to be relaxing. Getting away from it all. Enjoying my retirement. But, the fates seem to have this fucked up sense of humor when it comes to my life. This month's joke is in the beautiful form of one Genevieve De laVerne. A jazz singer, and an elusive one at that. So tempting, the mystery of her looks, her voice like a sirens, calling me all the way across the Atlantic Ocean to the city of New Orleans. All of this just to see the face behind the voice. And what a face! 

I must admit that I was surprised at the audacity of the woman who so blatantly stared at me in the Café DuMonde (which you should visit for a café au lait if you are ever in that vicinity). She was lovely, with that chestnut brown hair, but (and I admit this very, very reluctantly) I was rendered speechless and nearly incoherent when I saw her at the club and realized that she was the very woman I had traveled so far to see.

I must confess that it was only the intestinal fortitude I had gained from so many years under service to the Dark Lord and Albus that kept me thinking properly when I saw this siren running a vampire through but an hour after her concert. And seeming to enjoy it, too. I wonder what she would be like in bed? It took all of my self-control, not to attack her physically in order to get my wand back. Hells bells! It took all of my self-control to not throw her onto the floor and take her!

What the hell am I thinking about! Bedding that witch? I should run, run very quickly away and never think of her or this bloody city again! But, nooooo, too many years spent with that damn do-gooder Dumbledore and those insipid Griffindors have turned me into someone with a, oh how can I say this? A conscience. Make that a someone with a conscience and a hard on for..Genevieve. Blast and Damn!

Okay, so I will bed her and then leave town. Not a bad plan Severus old chap, not bad at all. Wait! I just called myself 'old chap'? Merlin's' foreskin! Take a deep breath and think of Quiddich.

There. I wonder what's on the telly? Where's that book with all of the programs in it? Ah, here we are, now what's on? Interview with the Vampire? Aw fuck me! Vampires and witches, damn them all to Hades. No, damn them all to teaching Potions at Hogwarts!

Why? I know that I was a Death Eater! I know that I made a 'poor choice' all those years ago. But haven't I done enough to make up for it? I saved that Potter kid from a fate worse than death! I ignored, rather than hexed the bastard that decided to put my face on a Wizards Card. I have been loyal to Albus and the Order all of these years! Why can't I just have a normal life for once?

Because I never was nor will I ever be normal, that's why. My father saw to that. Bastard. My father with all of his 'pure blood' this and 'pure blood' that. My father with his fists. My father with his mistresses, flaunted in front of my poor, foolish, helpless mother. My father and his acceptance of no less than perfect from me. My father and his allegiance to Voldimort.

Me and my allegiance to Voldimort.

There is no redemption, merely purgatory. 

Mademoiselle De laVergne is being followed by a vampire or at least she thinks she is. She let this slip earlier as we finished off the bottle of wine I had opened. It was hard not to smile at her expression of horror at what she had just said. Then she told me to go away and to stay away for surely the monster following her had seen me.

My life might be hell, but at least I am breathing. I intend to do so for as long as I can. Go away indeed. Why, so the vampire can kill her and then finish me off too? I think not.

I am a master of the Dark Arts. I taught hundreds of idiot children with out the loss of one of their lives. Surely I can help this damsel seek out and destroy her stalker? Damsel my Slytherin ass, you'd better watch out Severus, old boy, this woman could be more of a danger to you than Voldimort ever was. It might not be so easy to leave her as it was him.


	6. Chapter Five

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Disclaimer: I wish JKR was one of my sisters, but since she isn't I must tell you that Sev and the lot belong to her. Genevieve is mine however.

So…to all who read and didn't review. How was the wine?

This chapter is for Shem and jkrazed. Jkrazed, you read my mind…

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Travels with Severus; Severus does New Orleans

Book One

Chapter Five

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked. Severus Snape leaned casually against the frame of her front door and smiled. "I told you to stay away."

"If you knew me better, Miss De laVerne, you wouldn't be surprised by my presence here this afternoon. Were you sleeping?" he asked, noticing her nightgown and robe. Her eyes were heavy from her slumber and her right cheek was flushed from her pillow. He resisted the urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her back to her bed.

She allowed her eyes to roam up and down his form. "Black isn't a very good color choice for New Orleans in July, even if the material is linen." she said of his shirt and trousers. "You look hot."

He smirked, "Thank you."

She flushed bright red. "I meant you looked like you were feeling hot."

"Oh, I am Genevieve. I am," he replied with a velvet growl, causing her to duck her head and draw a breath.

"I meant that-oh fuck it-never mind. Come in before the neighbors see you," She stood aside and allowed him to enter. He brushed her, ever so slightly with his shoulder as he did so. She shivered and busied her self with locking the door. Turning, she saw that he had made himself comfortable on her sofa. "Make yourself at home then." she muttered at his reclining form.

"Thank you, I shall. Have you got any coffee?"

"No, actually. And, yes I was sleeping. I work nights. Remember?"

"Come, come. It's nearly three. Surely you have had enough sleep?"

Tired from her exertions the night before, Genevieve was in no mood for sarcasm in any form. "Look!" she snapped out "What are you doing here? I thought I explained myself quite clearly this morning."

He smiled at her tone. He knew she needed coffee, and needed it badly. "You did explain yourself very clearly this morning. I, however have no desire to leave town at present. After seeing what I saw last night in that alley, I have no intention of leaving until the matter of your stalker is resolved."

She opened her mouth to reply and found no words forthcoming. She snapped it shut again. Damn him and his presence here anyway! She needed coffee, but wasn't about to get up and make any. It would satisfy him entirely too much. "You are too kind, Mr. Snape in offering your help, but I really must decline. I work alone," she managed to say in a saccharine tone. 

This elicited a chuckle from the wizard. "Now now, Mademoiselle. Where is the famous southern hospitality I've heard so much about? Go make coffee. You need it and so do I. You talked last night, now it's my turn."

With a frown she turned on her heel and strode into the kitchen. He smiled at the show of temper she was displaying by banging cabinet doors closed and slamming mugs onto the counter. This was followed by the sound of the coffee maker bubbling as it brewed. Finished with her preparations, she stomped out of the kitchen and made for what he assumed was her bedroom. She 'accidentally' stomped on one of his feet as she made her way past him, smiling at his muttered expletive. 

Severus leaned his head back against the sofaback and let out an amused chuckle. Annoying people was an amusing past time for him, one he hadn't indulged in since leaving Hogwarts. She promised to be a fun one to annoy.

The smell of coffee broke his reverie and he rose and made for the kitchen he had made himself so at home in the night before to prepare a cup for Genevieve and himself. He brought the cups into the livingroom and made himself comfortable on the sofa. 

After a few minutes, she entered the room, dressed in loose fitting cotton slacks and matching top in a flattering shade of light yellow. She accepted the cup from his proffered hand with a muttered "Thanks." With a grateful sigh, she sipped the hot liquid. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Severus finally broke it by saying, "I want to help you with your vampire problem."

"I don't want you to help me with my problem, but thank you for the offer."

Severus let out an exasperated sigh, "Your problem has become my problem, Genevieve. If this vampire saw me with you last night, then it is reasonable to assume he will come after me as soon as he kills you."

"That's assuming he succeeds in killing me," she retorted.

"Quite, but I am willing to assume the worst."

"Your optimism is astounding!"

She was rewarded with a raised eyebrow and "Vampires are dark creatures, and I am sure you are aware of the fact that I have spent a great many years immersed in the dark arts. You on the other hand, are a jazz singer who happens to be a half blooded witch with a dangerous hobby."

"Hobby?" she bristled, "Might I remind you, Severus Snape, that I managed to disarm you last night, and hex you before you could say Boo!"

"Yes, and may I also point out that I managed to hex you in that alley." 

"You snuck up on me," she countered smugly.

"Precisely why you need my help, Miss De laVergne."

She wanted to answer him back, but she could think of nothing to say to what was so obviously a good point. Instead she resorted to chewing on her lower lip and frowning. Severus repressed a grin of satisfaction and sipped his coffee.

After a moment she took another sip of her coffee, "Good coffee, by the way. Ever had sex in a cemetery?"

He choked on his coffee, spitting it out of his mouth. "W-what did you just ask me?"

She smiled benignly, "I asked you if-"

"I heard you." he interrupted, "I don't kiss and tell."

"I'm being serious."

"What are you thinking of getting up to?"

'Well, I think that we may be able to lure this stalker, as you call him, into a cemetery. I am proposing that we appear to be distracted. You know, guard down?" she answered.

"Then we attack."

"Exactly."

"And if the stalker fails to take the bait?"

"New Orleans is full of vampires, Severus. Odds are we bag one, even if it isn't my stalker."

"Why don't you just make it easy for him to kill you, Genevieve and walk around town wearing a sign inviting him to kill you?" he asked in a sarcastic tone.

"You're the one who's so insistent on helping me, Sev, so drop that tone. Have you got any better ideas?

"No," he answered reluctantly and got up to fetch more coffee. 

"Well then there we are," she sighed. "Stalker will be suspicious if we just walk on into St. Louis Cemetery and start going at it for no reason, so for the sake of appearing normal I think you should take me to dinner and maybe some dancing afterward. You know some nice romantic music and close dancing. After a time we leave and go for a quiet stroll, start necking madly, you drag me into the cemetery etcetera etcetera."

"And hopefully this stalker will follow us in and attempt to seize the opportunity to dispatch us into the hereafter."

"That's about right."

He handed her her mug, now refilled, and sat down next to her. "You know, Genevieve, if you want to sleep with me all you need do is ask, although I am flattered that you would go to all of this effort just for the excuse to seduce me."

She answered his statement with an arched eyebrow and a sarcastic, "Please."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The restaurant had been suitably romantic. Their dinner had been delicious and Severus had enjoyed every bite of his meal, from the Turtle Soup to the Blackened Red Fish. It was the desert of Bananas Foster that had nearly proved his undoing, for he adored sweets and he allowed himself to say as much to his companion. 

Genevieve was surprised by the pleasantness of his company, for he had been a gentleman all evening. She wasn't surprised to find him well read, he had been a Professor after all, but he wasn't what she had expected an ex-Death Eater to be. It was appreciation of the arts, especially music that pleased her. She was surprised at his knowledge of the Muggle world, for the prejudice toward PureBloods was a prevalent in America as it was in Great Britain. She said as much to him as they walked, hand in hand through Jackson Square. After a thoughtful pause he replied,

"My father thought the only thing good about Muggles was their art. Music drew me to Muggle London, and I eventually came to appreciate other aspects of that world. My father, when he found out about it deeply disapproved."

Genevieve had the feeling he was understating his father's reaction, but choose not to delve into the subject any further. Instead, she brought them around to the subject they had been avoiding all evening. "I suppose we should go somewhere to dance now. It's only nine o'clock, so we have plenty of time to kill."

He squeezed her hand and answered her with a slight nod, "Where to, then?"

"Why The Red Cat, of course." she answered and guided him to the door. He opened it for her and they entered arm in arm.

The dance floor was full, for it was Saturday night and Aaron Neville was performing. She calmly acknowledged the few greetings she received as she followed her partner to the dance floor. 

She felt good in his arms, pressed up against him. Her perfume graced his nose with its light floral scent. Her hair was soft against his cheek and her hand soft in his. _'She looks stunning tonight,' _he thought. When she opened the door to him this evening, she left him nearly breathless. She wore a black silk shift and high heeled matching sandals. The sheen and color of the material accenting the smooth, creamy skin of her arms and legs, which were bare. Her hair was piled on her head in loose ringlets. She was tempting and he once again resisted the urge to lock them in her bedroom for as long as they could stand it. Instead, he followed her into the apartment and accepted a drink. There were no pleasantries exchanged, rather she got straight to business and began to hand him the weapons necessary to the destruction of Vampires. As they rode to the restaurant in the taxi, he amused himself by trying to figure out where she had stashed her weapons beneath the dress that clung so subtly to her figure.

Now, here they were, dancing as though they were an ordinary couple enjoying a pleasant evening together. The song ended, all too soon and they found themselves applauding as Aaron Neville was introduced and began his first number.

"I put a spell on you  
'Cause you're mine  
  
You better stop the things you do  
I ain't lyin'  
No I ain't lyin'"

He pulled her into his arms again and they swayed to the music. This time, she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his chest. He bent his head and nuzzled top of hers. _'We are working. We are working,'_ he said to himself over and over, trying to resist the temptation in his arms. Concentration was vital to their survival tonight.

"You know I can't stand it  
You're runnin' around  
You know better mamma  
I can't stand it cause you put me down  
  
I put a spell on you  
Because you're mine  
You're mine,"

Genevieve was trembling inside, as the words of the song and the rhythm of her partners' heart washed through her. His hand had felt good in hers, but his body against hers' felt even better. It had been so long since she had been held this closely by a man, for she had allowed no one since Marcus so close. _'Marcus.'_ The pain of his loss no longer fresh, but instead a dull ache that would never go away. Marcus was dead, and instead of dancing with him, here she was dancing with Severus Snape, the very antithesis of him.

She shouldn't be trembling inside, like this. They were working not dating. They were colleagues, inspite of her reluctance to have him as one. He felt so very good against her, and it had been so long.

"I love ya  
I love you  
I love you  
I love you anyhow  
And I don't care  
if you don't want me  
I'm yours right now  
  
You hear me  
I put a spell on you  
Because you're mine"

Feeling as if she were under a spell, she lifted her face to his and placed a tentative kiss on his lips. He stiffened slightly in surprise at her advance, at the softness of her lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have done that."

He was about to respond, when he felt and then saw a pair of eyes staring at him. He stiffened for a moment, and then whispered. "We are being watched." Cupping her face in his hands, he drew her to him and pressed a passionate kiss upon her lips. With a sigh, she parted her lips beneath his and he accepted the invitation to deepen the kiss. He pulled her closer to him, his tongue gently probing the sweetness of her mouth. 

He tasted and withdrew, ending the kiss that left them both slightly breathless.

"Shall we go?" he asked.

"Y-yes."

She snuggled into him, as he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her from the floor. 

They walked, arm and arm through the night, stopping every few steps, to kiss each other and to make sure they were being followed. When they were finally in front of the entrance to a cemetery, Genevieve looked up at him, winked and pulled him to her lips.

It was by far, Severus thought, the most incredible kiss he had ever received_. 'Blast her and her damn plan!'_ he thought as her soft, wet tongue invaded his mouth. Her body, eagerly pressed against his, was stirring his baser instincts and his hands itched to tear her dress off of her and take her on the spot. Mission or no, she was flirting with danger, he was after all, a man. Tearing his mouth away from hers, he smiled wickedly at her.

"Why Genevieve, can't you wait until we get back to our room?" he purred as he stroked his hand down her back and brought it to rest on the curve of her bottom.

"No, I want you now, Severus!" she exclaimed breathlessly. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him toward the gates of the graveyard.

"In the cemetery?"

"Yes. On Marie Laveau's grave to be exact. She was the local voodoo Queen. No one will disturb us there at night." 

She pulled him through the gates and into the city of the dead. They walked along a path, leading them deeper into the cemetery, passing beautifully constructed mausoleums made of marble. 

"Because the city is so far below sea-level, it's impossible to bury the dead in the ground. The holes fill up with water. So we use mausoleums instead," she explained. They took a left-hand turn down another path and after a few more steps, they came a stop in front of a tomb that was marked with various drawings and inscriptions. Genevieve walked up the steps that led to the doors of the monument carefully avoiding the bottles of whiskey and piles of coins that had been left in offering to the legendary woman. 

Feeling the presence of the vampire nearby, she smiled and turned to invite Severus into her arms again, thus sealing the trap they had been so carefully laying. He had followed her up the steps, and was about to pin her against the marble door, when he was suddenly swept away. Genevieve watched in shock as he seemingly flew through the air and slammed against the hard surface of a tomb. She had her wand drawn in enough time to watch Severus' still form, slide to the ground. 

Crouching into a fighting stance, she cautiously made her way down the steps, wanting to get away from the confines of the tomb. Turning in a slow circle, she could see no one, the cemetery seemingly deserted. She knew better and willed herself against going over to check on the health of her partner.

"Genevieve De laVerne." The soft voice shattered the silence, startling her. She swung around in the direction of the voice, her eyes searching the darkness for its source.

"Over here, Mademoiselle," came the voice from behind her.

She swung around again, wand at ready, looking for a target to cast her hex at.

"No, over here." from a different direction again. 

He was playing with her and she decided to call him on it. She had never felt such danger; the atmosphere seemed pregnant with it. For the first time in the years since she had killed her first vampire, she felt fear. Her partner, who shouldn't really be there in the first place, was lying dead or unconscious in a heap against a grave, and she was alone in a deserted graveyard with a vampire who was obviously older than most who crossed her path. _"Fuck!" _she thought.

"Show yourself!" she said aloud,"Surely you're too old to play these foolish cat and mouse games?"

''And you are a foolish witch, hunting my kind, Mademoiselle," he replied as he stepped out of the shadows "Surely you didn't think you would never be discovered?"

Genevieve nearly gasped as he slowly revealed himself to her. He was by far the most beautiful creature she had yet seen. His hair was dark as night, and flowed down his back and shoulders. She couldn't tell where his hair ended and his suit began, for he was dressed entirely in black. The cut and style was modern and clean, sharp and crisp. It fit him perfectly accentuating his body, which was well formed although he was not as tall as she thought he'd be. His face was flawless, and classically handsome. His pale skin seemed to reflect the moonlight that shone down upon them. Almost against her will, she felt the desire to kiss his full lips; to feel those lips on her neck, to feel those hands stroke her. She allowed herself to gasp at the knowing smile he flashed her way, revealing his lethal incisors.

"Yes," he said "You hunt us to avenge your dead lover, yet you feel the temptation of us, don't you?" 

He came to a stop in front of her. They stood face to face; she could feel his strong presence washing over her in waves, threatening to carry her into their tide. She gulped, finding it harder and harder to resist his power.

"W-what do you want with me?" she whispered clutching her wand tighter in her outstretched hand. "Why have you been stalking me?"

"It's very simple really, I want you, Genevieve." She gasped as he gently pushed her hand down to her side and grabbed her by the shoulders. Trembling and powerless, she allowed him to draw her closer until her body was pressed against him and she could feel is hot breath on her neck. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, placing a kiss at the nape of her neck sending shivers of lust down her spine. "I have desired you for so long."

"Impedimenta!" roared Snape and Genevieve felt herself flying through the air as her stalker shoved her away from him. 

She landed against the doors of Marie Laveau's grave with such force that they flew open. She hit the back wall of the sepulchre with such force that the sound of her impact echoed out of the crypt and into the night. The last thing she heard and saw before sinking into the darkness invading her head, was Snapes' shouted, "Incendio!" and a red yellow arc of fire.


	7. Chapter Six

Travels with Severus: Severus does New Orleans  
Chapter Six  
  
A shaft of bright morning light shone through a small gap in the blinds, hitting Severus squarely in the eyes. With a grunt he rolled over and buried his head underneath his pillow. He heard the patter of soft footsteps make their way past him, but decided to ignore them and try to sleep for just a while longer.  
  
The faint noises coming from the direction of the kitchen were in a small way comforting, as was the warmth of the comforter he lay wrapped in. He was just drifting off to sleep again, with the pleasant smell of coffee drifting through his senses when a blood curdling scream sent him bolt upright with his wand drawn.  
  
Rushing into the kitchen, wincing at the screams that emanated from within, he was fully prepared to be greeted by the sight of an intruder of some sort. Instead he found a rather disheveled looking Genevieve De La Vergne standing on a chair, bellowing her lungs out in horror.  
  
"What" he shouted over her screams and was answered by her pointing finger and more screams. He swung, wand at ready in the direction of her pointing finger and saw ..nothing.  
  
"What is it Jenna!" he exclaimed. "Stop that damn caterwauling!"  
  
She stopped at his order and gulping she gasped "R-R-Roach!"  
  
He glanced down at the floor and ran a hand over his face. "Jenna, it's a Cockroach," he said wearily. Grabbing a rolled up newspaper off of the nearby counter, he smacked it firmly then picked up the carcass and tossed it into her trash can. He turned, looked up at her, standing on the chair shivering in genuine fear and burst into amused laughter.  
  
"It's not funny!" she yelled indignantly as she stepped carefully down from her perch. "You try fighting one of those bastards off of you in the middle of the night!"  
  
Her indignance did nothing to quell his laughter, it merely caused him to laugh harder. It was a nice laugh too, she thought, even if it was directed at her. His face changed when he laughed, losing its stern countenance and becoming a bit younger in looks. The timbre of his laugh was as deep as his voice, rich and melodic. It was entrancing, so much so that she almost forgot that she should be upset at his making fun of her.  
  
"Severus Snape, stop laughing at me!" she yelled stomping her foot. "It's not funny!"  
  
"Afraid," he gasped as he held a hand against his stomach. "of a little Cockroach!"  
  
She shot him a glare and strode from the room, muttering under her breath about bastards named Snape, as his laughter followed her.  
  
All she wanted was a nice cup of coffee, and then a shower, she thought as she slammed into her bathroom and turned on the faucet. Stripping off her t- shirt she stepped into the hot stream of water and grabbed the shampoo.  
  
"Damn roaches!' she hissed as she worked the shampoo through her hair. "I hate New Orleans!"  
  
"No you don't," she answered herself. "You hate roaches. If you hated New Orleans so much you wouldn't live here. Besides, the roaches were worse in Paris, which is why you moved back here. Not to mention the food and the people too," she finished. "You are talking to yourself again Genevieve."  
  
Ducked under the stream of water and rinsed her hair out then after shaking the water out of her eyes she grabbed her shower gel and fluffy. Lathering her body, she continued her talk, "Of course you always talk to yourself since you don't have a cat or a dog. And so what if Severus laughed at you! Roaches are filthy slimy little vermin and they will attack you just as sure as look at you! Remember that year at camp and the flying –ugg. Don't think about it any more Jenna!"  
  
She stepped from the shower and toweled herself dry. Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled. "Don't let the laughter bother you. You have much more important things to think about, you know," she told herself. "Like Marcus being a vampire and you nearly allowing him to make you one."  
  
A few minutes later she emerged from her bedroom, freshly dressed and longing for a cup of coffee and a good cry. She was greeted by her fan turned partner sitting on her sofa, nursing a cup of coffee and trying not to smirk at her.  
  
"It's not funny," she muttered as she made her way past him. Eyeing the carafe on the coffee table she grabbed the remaining cup and poured herself a measure.  
  
"It's very funny," he replied as she flopped herself down next to him and glared. "It's so delightfully ironic. You hunt vampires and you are afraid of a mere bug. Tell me," he continued as he scooted around to face her. "How do you ever make yourself go into a tomb?"  
  
She sighed and adopted a nonchalant air. "I don't go into tombs." She sipped her coffee and shrugged. "I've never had to."  
  
"Sleeping vampires are easier to dispatch."  
  
She sighed and growled, "Yes I am sure they are, but I can't bring myself to –well it's not very sporting to sneak up on them when they are sleeping!"  
  
This elicited another round of laughter from her companion. "Or are you afraid of the roaches, perhaps?"  
  
"Just shut up! Aren't you afraid of anything?"  
  
"No," he answered firmly. Too firmly to Jenna's ears. "But let us not get too caught up in your phobias that we neglect more pressing matters."  
  
A pall fell over the room, the bright sunlight streaming in from her patio seemed over bright all of a sudden, the incident in the kitchen loosing its significance.  
  
"Marcus," she finally whispered, shattering the silence.  
  
"Marcus," he echoed.  
  
She didn't know what to say, suddenly overwhelmed by the events of the night before, so she merely stared at the floor in front of her.  
  
"You do realize that you are going to have to dispatch him?" he asked quietly. "Or you can surrender to his, persuasion."  
  
She couldn't answer him, her mind filled with the memory of his cold lips on hers, the caress of his feted breath against her neck. Yet she had desired him so in those few moments, desired him in spite of the voices yelling at her in the back of her mind to run.  
  
"Severus," she said quietly. "I don't think that I can do this. Yet I can't believe what I saw last night, what I felt, yet I know it was real! I thought he was dead all this time, and he's been stalking me! I almost went with him!"  
  
She jumped up from the sofa and paced the room, wringing her hands together, worry furrowing her brow. "I mean, "she turned to face him, her eyes wide with fear and pain. "I can't ! I can't dispatch him, as you so quaintly put it! Damn it!"  
  
She burst into tears and fled to her room, the door slamming behind her. 


End file.
